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THE DEAR 
SAINT ELIZABETH 



A tragic romance of true history, in four acts and 
eight scenes, with musical accompaniment 



BY 

ELIZA O'B. LUMMIS 

The heart of man should as a censer be. 
Closed unto earth., but unto Heaven all free. 

—Roman Breviary 




BOSTON 

RICHARD G. BADGER 

THE GORHAM PRESS 
I912 



Copyright, 1912, by Eliza O'B. Lummis 



Dramatic and All Rightb Reserved 



T S 3S's 3 



Thb Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A. 



gCI.A30!»92a 

¥J. 'i 



Respectfully dedicated to 

His Eminence 

JOHN M. FARLEY, D. D., 

Cardinal Archbishop 

of 

New York 



PREFACE 

The Drama was born In the Church, and how- 
ever crude were the first "Mysteries," they stamped 
upon it the image of God, and sent it forth with 
the noble and dignified mission, of educating the peo- 
ple in the remembrance of things divine. If, as the 
world grows older, that mission has been forgotten, 
degraded and prostituted, the increasing popu- 
lar interest in religious plays gives hope of a 
salutary reaction. The Passion Play at Ober Am- 
mergau Is an object lesson in future possibilities, and 
the Church may come to use again the picture les- 
sons of the stage In repressing sensuality and im- 
pressing anew on the nations the living truths of 
Christianity. 

In canonizing a Saint, the Church sets her seal 
upon true virtue, that It may become an inspira- 
tion to mankind. 

Unsplritual minds may not wholly grasp the mo- 
tives that inspire heroic sanctity, nevertheless, we 
must regard the Saint not merely as a faultless 
statue of chaste marble, but as a being of flesh and 
blood tempted in all things as we, yet steadfastly 
living for higher things. 

Such Soul Life expands as a flower, lifting itself 
above the mire of human passion to feed upon the 
dew and sunshine of Heaven, yet the germ of its 
ravishing beauty dwelt in the dust whence we too 
have sprung. 

The Church rarely canonizes a Saint until one or 
more centuries have passed that the subject may be 
studied dispassionately. In the case of a martyr or 
a public character like Elizabeth who is canonized 



PREFACE 

by popular demand and whose virtues are attested 
by a whole people, the decree is hastened. 

It may be further explained that while the mir- 
acles of a saint are necessary to the decree of can- 
onization, as supernatural proofs of favors with God, 
all miracles are not accepted and must be proven by 
a rigid examination. 

The Saint lore of the Catholic Church is a golden 
treasury for the dramatist. But whatever be the 
good will of non-Catholic or creedless writers, it is 
certain that the religious drama would gain greatly 
by Catholic interpretation. 

That there is a future for the true religious play 
is not to be doubted. In this belief I submit to the 
judgment of an American public this first unworthy 
attempt to bring the life of a mediaeval Saint in 
touch with the modern Stage, and beg the encourage- 
ment of those who have at heart with myself the 
moral and artistic mission of the modern drama. 

Eliza O'B. Lummis. 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE 

The drama follows closely the lines of true his- 
tory and the characters and events are identified 
with the life story. The children of Saint Elizabeth 
were cast out with her, or rather, they followed 
their banished mother. As, however, the greater 
part of her life was lived in solitude, we have pre- 
ferred to omit this fact as unduly increasing the in- 
cidentals of the play. 

The moral of the drama is shown through logical 
results, being the outcome of principles expressed by 
the characters, as shown in their after-lives. Hugo 
a courtier, declares for the life of the senses and the 
gratification of the will; while Master Conrad, 
later the Director of Elizabeth, upholds the value 
of Christian detachment, proving that the man 
who is governed by passion becomes in time a weak- 
ling, unable to respond to the call of his better na- 
ture. Elizabeth typifies the Soul-life, and her vir- 
tue, though misunderstood by the people of her time, 
is later recognized by posterity. As a gracious ex- 
ample of beautiful womanhood, she seeks to im- 
press her high ideals upon the frivolous men and wom- 
en of her time. Failing in this direct endeavor, she 
lifts her own life to the spiritual heights she con- 
templates and influences the generations to come. 



SYNOPSIS 

Act I. Scene i 

A festive scene. Peasants are dancing and prep- 
arations being made for the marriage of the young 
Elizabeth to Louis, Landgrave of Thuringia. The 
opening dialogue between Master Conrad and Hugo 
strikes the key-note and tells the story of the 
coming espousal. The bridegroom later, combats 
the disapproval of his frivolous courtiers, who fear 
the saintly bride will curb their pleasures. The 
bridal party approaches, and Elizabeth's character is 
revealed in some historic incidents. The marriage 
proceeds amid symbolic ceremonies, with singing by 
a choir of boys and by young maidens, who 
hold lamps in their hands, and scatter roses in the 
path of the bride. 

Act 2. Scene i 

Louis, the young husband, takes the vow to go to 
the Holy War. Elizabeth is seen descending the 
rugged paths from the castle, and the historic miracle 
of the roses is gracefully introduced. In a love 
scene between the husband and wife, Elizabeth finds 
the crusader's Cross which Louis has concealed in 
his hunting pocket. She is overcome, and begs him 
not to leave her. But recognizing that she has in- 
spired him to a manly and virtuous life, conquers her 
affection and bids him go to the Holy War. The 
curtain falls as the hunters return. 

Act 2. Scene 2 

The departure of the crusading army. The hero- 
ism of Elizabeth and Louis is contrasted with the 



lo THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

weakness and irresolution of Hugo, who cannot 
brave, the hardships of the soldier's life. Agnes, 
Louis' sister, urges Hugo to the endeavor, but a 
representative of his sensual existence uses a counter 
influence which succeeds. 

Act 3. Scene i 

Elizabeth, in the absence of her husband, encour- 
ages the women of her time to more useful lives, 
saying that industry was once the guardian of wom- 
anly virtue. There is a famine in the land and the 
poor troop in to be fed. They are envious and un- 
grateful, but Elizabeth turns their hatred into re- 
spect and love. She encourages a woman who com- 
plains of ''the curse of children," by pointing out the 
glory of motherhood. Hugo is among the poor, pen- 
niless and despairing. On many pretexts the people 
have turned against Elizabeth, and insurrection has 
grown in her kingdom. During a tournament in 
the castle news is brought that Louis is dead. The 
messenger brings the ring he gave as a true token. 
Elizabeth is inconsolable, and vows her love to 
heaven. A mob beats at the gates and Henry, 
Louis's brother, claims the throne. He is upheld 
by many and exiles Elizabeth, putting her out in the 
snow storm that is raging, alone with her maid, 
Guta. 

Act 3. Scene 2 

Elizabeth is seen descending a rugged path, a 
light around her head, while angel voices are faintly 
heard amid the storm. She seeks shelter at the 
Monastery where Monks are chanting the evening 
hymn, but Henry has forbidden his subjects to give 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH ii 

her refuge. A poor woman whom she has be- 
friended ungratefully refuses to harbor her, and 
frivolous courtiers returning from a ball ridicule 
and denounce her. Cast out by all, she recognizes 
a higher Providence in these events, and by the 
sacrifice of earthly affections hopes to gain the 
precious Pearl of Divine Love, for which a man 
must sell all that he hath. Dawn comes slowly as 
Elizabeth and Guta find refuge in the Church, 
which is brightly illuminated as she enters; the old 
sacristan crying out that "an angel has passed!" 

Act 4. Scene i 

Elizabeth, exiled, is living in a wretched hovel, 
tending the poor, and reverenced as a Saint. Fran- 
cis of Assisi has sent her his mantle. She cures Hugo 
of moral leprosy and gives him new courage. Her 
friends approach to offer her riches and a marriage 
with the Emperor Frederick of Germany. 

Having learned wisdom through self-renunciation, 
she refuses all earthly consolation. She is a Queen 
indeed now, having won the hearts of her people 
by condescension and tender sympathy. She has 
found at last the Soul Life. "The body is nothing," 
etc., etc. — "The Soul, a beauteous thing! It buds 
in life, but Heaven's its blossoming!" The scene 
ends with her death on a poor pallet, amid heavenly 
manifestations that are withdrawn as faith grows in 
those around. A paralytic is healed and the peo- 
ple cry out that Elizabeth is a Saint. Conrad, her 
Director, bids them await the Church's verdict. "It 
will come in time!" 



12 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Act 4. Scene 2 

Musical Tableau 

The canonization of Elizabeth is represented amid 
ringing of bells and chanting of the Te Deum. In- 
spired by a worthy object, art, music and song reach 
their highest perfection in the aim of glorifying God. 
The Papal delegate holds the decree, Hugo in Crus- 
aders' dress guards the catafalque; rich and poor 
mingle in a crowd. The Emperor Frederick is lay- 
ing his crown on the tomb and a living picture of 
the Miracle of the Roses is revealed. 

Note 

The music to accompany this play is defined as a 
Tone Poem, consecutive and symbolic, which, strik- 
ing at first the note of the material, leads the audi- 
ence by degrees to the spiritual heights of the Finale. 
The music incidental to the festivities should be 
given on the stage. The celestial music should 
come from above; while the orchestral music 
should accompany the play as thought follows upon 
speech and blooms into words or is the inspiration of 
them. Thus the music may be compared to a dia- 
logue, where each part has an individual character, 
and all combined tell the story in musical num- 
bers. 



MBCaflMBtaaaeb- 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 13 
Dramatis Personae 

Louis. Landgrave of Thuringla (20 years old). 

Henry. His brother. 

Conrad of Marburg, Palmer & Ap. Delegate, later 

Confessor to Elizabeth. 

Count Stephan i rp • j r j 

^ ^ TT rriends of Louis. 

Count Hugo I 

Walter of Varila (Seneschal). 

The Bishop of Bamberg (Uncle to Elizabeth). 

Thibault of Champagne | 

(King of Navarre) | Court Minstrels. 

Henry Von Ofterdingen | 

Kurt, A Young Page. 

A Sacristan. 

1st Beggar. 

2nd Beggar. 

Two small children, the eldest a boy of 6 years. 

A Paralytic. 

The Princess Elizabeth, Queen of Hungary and 
Duchess of Thuringia (when married to Louis, 15 
years old). 

The Princess Agnes, sister to Louis. 

Sophie, Mother to Louis. 

Guta I 

Isentrude | Friends of Elizabeth. 

Maida j 

A Gypsy. 

Ladies of Honor, Beggars, Lepers, Courtiers, 
Hunters, Acolytes, Children and Crusading Army. 

(Many small parts may be duplicated). 



14 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 



Scene i. 

Scene 2. 

Scene 3. 

Scene 4. 

Scene 5. 
Scenes 6, 7, 8. 
place. 



Eisenach, Thurlngia, (with distant 

view of Warburg Castle). 
The Valley of Lilies. 
Great Hall In the Castle of Warburg. 
Eisenach, etc., as before. 

Marburg, Street and Market- 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 15 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Act I. Scene I 

A woodland approach to Eisenach, the Castle of 
Warburg above on the heights, reached by cir- 
cuitous mountain paths. At the foot of the hill on 
the left are indicated a peasant's hut and a monas- 
tery, embowered in trees. To the right a church facade 
with steps. Midway a large wayside crucifix, hung 
with grapes and ears of corn. Festoons and decora- 
tions everywhere. Peasants strolling and dancing a 
national dance in the background. Hugo, in gala 
attire talking covertly with a peasant girl. Conrad, 
in pilgrim's dress, leaning on his staff looking on. 
He is watching Hugo with some curiosity. Prepar- 
ations for the marriage are being made and the 
church bells chime softly at intervals. 

Conrad — Pardon, Sir! I'm but a stranger in 
the city. What means this festivity? These gar- 
lands? Surely some event more than common! 
'Tis a goodly sight! Much has chanced, no doubt, 
since last I passed this way, some years now gone. 

Hugo — A stranger surely, not to have heard 
of happenings like these. 'Tis an old story. The 
Princess Elizabeth of Hungary, who hath been 
brought up at this Court since she was but a little 
maid, is about to marry our Sovereign, the Land- 
grave Louis. For a whole week has the city made 
holiday. Some said that the marriage would 
never take place. The maid would rather chant 
hymns and fast, they said, than yield herself to her 
lover's arms. (Bells chime gaily). Yet it has come 
to pass. Hark to the marriage bells! 

Conrad — How times passes! It all cometh back 
to mind! I remember the child at her father's 



1 6 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Court in Hungary years since. A tiny maid, 
with promise of great beauty. Gay as a sunbeam, 
yet with a pitiful heart for suffering; and always 
at her prayers. They said she talked with the 
angels ! 

Hugo — True. A saintly maid. But for my 
part, I do not admire prudery! 'Twill be a sorry 
day for us when she is mistress of the land. Long 
faces; prayers; fasting and minding one's manners! 
Not for me! (He dances about and cries gaily) ; 
Life was made to enjoy say I ! I love good wine, 
and merry maids, and feasting and sweet delights! 
Why are we given our senses but to delight them 
with pleasure? 

Conrad — (Seriously, laying his hand on Hu- 
go's arm). You do not then lay claim to a higher 
life than that of the senses? So lives the cur! Yet 
he owns one virtue that men sometimes lack. Fidel- 
ity to a Master! You, it seems, know no will but 
your own ! 

Hugo— (Shaking off Conrad). Save your max- 
ims for the pulpit! Am I not a man? My own 
master! Knowing well what I want, and with a 
mind to choose and have my way? That hath not 
your cur. 

Conrad — Nay, man! The body is mated to 
the Soul ! An unequal union, if the body, too kindly 
comforted, doth drag it down from noble flights. 
(Approches him again, reasoning kindly). You 
are not Master, but Slave! He is the man who 
can say to the body: I am Master, not you! What 
I will, I shall deny you. The Soul is King within 
me, and the Body is but its Thrall ! 

Hugo — (Impatiently shaking him off; laughing 
in a good natured way) . Gro to ! You grow weari- 
some. Keep your homilies till I can better stomach 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 17 

them. Lent is coming! Nay, I will play my life 
against yours, but I have the best of it. Time will 
tell! (Approaches C. and whispers). A word in 
your ear. Secure your place in good season. There 
will be goodly feasting and you look hungry. Ha! 
Ha! Ha! (Laughs and exit). 

Conrad — Farewell, Sir! Tis ever thus with 
youth, that seeketh Self alway, instead of God! 
(With dignity, shaking his head, and looking back. 
He enters the church reverently). 

(Orchestra plays a low running Prelude as peas- 
ants arrange carpet and flowers for the bridal and 
the music grows fainter until lost.) 

Enter Louis, dressed as a bridegroom, with Hugo 
and other courtiers. 

Louis — Faith! Ye spent so much time in rob- 
ing me, my Lords, I greatly feared my bride would 
think I did lack ardor! 

Hugo — ^Would that thou did'st lack ardor in 
her cause! 

(The others press forward and stand with him, 
facing Louis). 

Stephan — My Lord, he thinks as we; who 
dared not speak. The bride's a saint ! But men and 
Kingdoms need a woman who's something more of 
earth and less of Heaven! 

(Louis is amazed). 

Hugo — (Excitedly pacing up and down) — Such 
virtue's out of place in times like these! We are not 
monks; to fast and chant out prayers! Would 
thou had'st found a mate (ashamed to speak) — 
less holy then! who'd queen it here. Is it too late 
to mar this marriage? 

Louis — (With energy) — That I ne'er shall do! 
(lifts his cap). Mine own sweet little sister! How 



i8 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

can men speak so! (Looks in amazement and dis- 
gust at courtiers). 

Hugo — (Resignedly). Well! Pious wives note 
not, for prayers, when husbands' hearts do stray. 

Louis — (Turning in anger and drawing 
sword). Hugo! thou art my friend, or with this 
steel I'd smite those prating lips, that speak a heart 
of guile. (Putting back sword). Nay friends; 
(overcomes himself) forgive such heat upon this 
holy day. (Turns and faces them). Come, gen- 
tlemen, I swear! If beauteous dames from lands 
afar were brought to this my court, I'd choose but 
her. Her virtue do I prize more than my King- 
dom! Virtue's more rare than Beauty; far! If ye 
do love me, speak no more like this. Elizabeth's 
my bride. Or none. Come let's within; the 
trumpet sounds her coming. (They enter the 
church). The bells chime softly at intervals, and 
a fanfare of distant trumpets is heard. Also distant 
bridal march is sung. A crowd gathers, peasants 
are pushed back to make room. The bridal proces- 
sion enters, preceded by the cross bearers, incense, 
etc; a prelate in cardinal's robe; choir boys in 
quaint monastic dress, singing two verses of the Bri- 
dal hymn. They are followed by a number of 
young girls in white, holding lamps high in their 
hands and with baskets of roses which they strew, 
singing alternately with the boy choir two verses of 
their song. 

Bridal Hymn 

Hail to the Bride, upon whose raven tresses 
The sunlight falls, a crown of mystic gold! 
Hail to the maid, whose union Heaven blesses. 
Hasten to praise her while the hours are tolled ! 
Hail to the Bride. Hail to the Bride! 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 19 

Joy and delight shall wait upon her footsteps. 
Hail to the Bride whose troth is pledged to-day! 
Glory to God and joy unto His handmaid; 
Hail to the Bride! oh sing along the way! 
Hail to the Bride! Hail to the Bride! 

Song of the Maidens 

Their song is more solemn (with organ) forming 
a contrast in harmony to the boys' joyous hymn, 
which is light and graceful in cadence. They sing 
the chorus together in contrasting time. 

Maiden's Song 

The Bridegroom cometh! Go ye forth to meet 

Him, 
Oh ! Virgins pure ! Your lamps with love alight ! 
Be ye found worthy at the joyous summons, 
Quickly to follow in your garments white! 

(Repeat last words). 
See! o'er the hills the radiant dawn is breaking! 
There! mid the lilies He doth wait for thee; 
Rise, love and come, the shadows flee before Him! 
With thy Beloved, evermore thou'lt be. 

(They enter the church while the rest of the 
bridal party follows; the Landgravine Sophie pre- 
cedes the Princesses Elizabeth and Agnes, who walk 
together. Elizabeth is in bridal dress and is at- 
tended by Walter of Varila and Kurt who is in white 
and carries her prayerbook. Courtiers, ladies of 
honor, etc. The princesses wear jewelled crowns. 
While the procession is taking time to enter 
the church the bridal party stops a moment and 
separates — Walter of Varila attending at the church 
door). 



20 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Agnes — (Turns to admire her dress; whispers 
to Elizabeth) Sister, there are many gallants at 
court today. The Emperor of Germany, it is 
whispered, may aspire to my hand ! (Aloud) Doth 
my robe become me? My tire woman hath wrought 
it bravely, think you not? The train of lace, is 
from far Venice! And the diamond sparklets shine 
in the sun like frost jewels. Tell me, do I look 
well? 

Elizabeth — Sister, thou art always beautiful to 
me! And thy dress becometh thee rarely. Yet for- 
give me if today, I cannot dwell on trivialities. 
(Clasps her hands joyously). The heart of the 
Bride must dwell in Heaven on her marriage morn- 
ing! The maid who giveth herself in marriage 
crosseth the threshold of a new world. An Eden! 
it may be! but the serpent lieth hidden among the 
roses to delude her if she be unwary! Not like Eve 
I'd be to lure my love to ruin. A helpmate rather; 
to set my feet and his upon a ladder, that leadeth 
to the stars! 

(So Sophie). Madame! Let me kneel but a 
moment at the shrine where I have oft found com- 
fort; I have need of wisdom! 

Orchestra. (The running joyous accompaniment 
pianissimo. Characteristic motive of Elizabeth). 

Sophie — (Reluctantly). Go then. But delay 
not more than a moment child. Remember, thou 
hast a realm to govern and must be more worldly 
wise! 

(Elizabeth kneels before the crucifix. She prays 
simply as a child, but becomes inspired). 

Elizabeth's Prayer 

O Lord Divine, when but a little child, I laid 
my flowers here. Now these my joys I bring to 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 21 

gain thy blessing. (Musing). 'Tis pitiful and 
true! Earth's glories fade in one brief moment. 
Lord, give what is best; what Thou, O God! 
would'st find most precious. (She is silent a mo- 
ment then looks up). Lord, this earth of thine 
crowned Thee with sorrows. (Startled). I am 
crowned with gems! Oh, thoughtless maid, to 
flaunt thy jewels here! I'll cast them hence with 
tears. (Takes off her crown and lays it at the 
foot of the crucifix). And ask but only this; to 
comfort Thee, O Christ! Who weepest men's sins, 
with my poor sympathy. (Prostrates herself a few 
moments, with a fold of her mantle held before her 
face. (Courtiers talk in groups, laughing covertly 
about Elizabeth. Hugo and Stephan approach 
Agnes who coquets with them). 

(When E. speaks the music is pianissimo. When 
she is silent, the music is heard more loudly in a 
tender cadence). 

Agnes — (Angrily). Trivalities indeed! (more 
sadly — to herself). Yet she is right! The beauty 
of the King's daughter is within! (Resuming her 
frivolous manner). Nay, we must live joyously as 
all the world. (Laughing merrily). The roses 
of youth bloom but once ! 

(Hugo and Stephan join with her in talking and 
laughing in low tones). 

Sophie — (Walking up and down angrily). 
Come Madam! Enough! We are not saints like 
you! Parading our singular piety to the world. 
Why are you not like all the rest? You pray like 
an old nun who has nothing else to do. Put on 
your crown and let us end this nonsense! 

Agnes — (Pettishly). Sister, you forget your 
station and us! I wonder that my brother should 
have consented to marry you; your tastes are those 



22 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

of the peasant and you shame us. I am quite 
sure that you were changed in the cradle! 

(Trumpet sounds within church). All start and 
prepare to take places. 

Elizabeth — (Coming forward ashamed). Ma- 
dam, Agnes, I beg you to pardon me! 'Tis my 
wedding day! And wrapt in prayer, I forgot all 
else. (With an ecstatic look — eyes raised to 
Heaven). The Bridegroom cometh! Let us go to 
meet him ! ( Bells chime and march taken up as they 
enter the church. Walter of Varila enforces sil- 
ence on the Courtiers pressing about him). 

Courtiers — (To Walter). 'Tis not yet too 
late. Break up this marriage! (All enter and 
choral music is heard in the church and the bell 
chimes for the elevation of the Host. The peas- 
ants kneel reverently, crowding towards the door 
to peep within. The choir takes up the bridal hymn 
in bright and joyous measure. The Courtiers come 
out in procession, the Ladies of Honor, etc. The 
maidens holding lamps high in their hands stand, 
scattering roses in the path of the Bride. They di- 
vide, grouping themselves on either side of the 
church steps and swaying in a graceful rhythmic 
dance. The boys sing the last verse just before the 
bride appears, as the maidens scatter the roses. Con- 
certed harmony, the joyous notes of the bridal march 
overpowering for the moment the mystical cadences. 

Bridal Hymn 

Scatter your roses on the royal highway ; 
Charm with sweet music every care away! 
Tread but on flowers while the hours are flying, 
Hail to the Bride and to her Spouse for aye! 
Hail to the Bride, 

Hail to the Bride! 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 23 

(The Bride and Bridegroom stand on the church 
steps, with prelate behind, holding his hands over 
them in blessing. The chimes peal out ; the orches- 
tra takes up the theme in a burst of joyous music. 
The people go wild, throwing their caps in the air 
and shoutinng **Huzza! Heaven bless them!" etc. 
The Courtiers come out behind the bridal party 
making a tableau.) 

(Curtain.) 



24 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Act II. Scene I 

(5 Years Later) 

(Woodland and hunting musical theme, rip- 
pling of brooks. The horns of the Hunters are 
heard, and the baying of dogs. Hunters and Fal- 
coners rush past with spears and cross-bows, one of 
them holding back by the leash two greyhounds). 

First Hunter — Which way went the quarry? 

Second Hunter — ^We will scare him from his 
lair by our numbers. (Takes the leash). Stay 
here, some of you, until we call. 

First Hunter — Sound two blasts then, upon 
the horn, for we would be in at the death. (They 
throw themselves down on the turf to rest and throw 
dice or mend their hunting gear in the background. 
Enter Louis and Conrad of Marburg in conversa- 
tion. They sit on a rustic seat, talking). 

(In this scene the orchestral music is light and 
graceful, but sad and tender at times. A motive of 
Elizabeth at the rose miracle. The music should 
accompany the scenes with an occasional interlude). 

Louis — Conrad, I have long felt restless in the 
luxury of Court life. It unmans me. I would do 
braver service for Heaven before I die. Say ! What 
news cometh of late from Jerusalem? 

Conrad — The infidels are in possession of the 
Holy Sepulchre, and the sacred ground hallowed by 
the footsteps of the Saviour. Little need to ask if 
there be want of men like thee! Of late the Eng- 
lish King hath wars at home and hath withdrawn 
his army. Louis, thou must be our leader! Yet 
have I held my peace, knowing the ties that bind 
thee. Jerusalem! 'Tis the clarion call to every 
true heart! What nobler service than to battle for 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 25 

honor of the Most High? 

Louis — (Struggles with himself; walking up and 
down in agitation). Thou hast indeed taken me at 
my word. Love's ties are strong, my friend ! ( Strug- 
gles with himself). My wife, my little ones; my 
people! Yet if God call they must e'en be broken. 
(Takes off cap). 

Conrad — Courage! Walter of Varila will act 
as Seneschal in thy absence. 'Tis a trusty heart. 

Louis — (Bravely). Then must it be done; nay, 
it shall be done! (Debating with himself). To 
fight for the Church! To wrest from pagan hands 
the sacred Christian shrines; it sets my soul on 
fire! I were less than a man to remain behind! 
How can Christians spend whole lives in pleasure 
and dallying? To die perchance for the faith; 
'tis worth a kingdom! (Musingly). 

Conrad — Thou hast the spirit of Kings! Yet 
remember, the Crusader faces hard service, cold, 
hunger, wounds. He renounceth comfort for the 
body, and findeth death, too often in the end. 

Louis — (Humbly). I am, I trust, a true Chris- 
tian, and have ever denied myself. 'Tis not so hard 
a fate! A soldier must needs fare roughly. God 
will strengthen him in the true cause. (Proudly). 
The Crusader weareth the Cross upon his bosom, 
which carried with love turneth bitter waters to 
sweet. 

Conrad — Take then at my hand the Vow of the 
Crusader. Wilt thou seek first The Kingdom of 
God and His Glory, and fight to defend the cause 
of Christ? (Louis kneels and kisses Conrad's ring, 
saying, "I will!") 

Conrad — ^Take then His emblem as a symbol. 
In this Sign shalt thou conquer! (Makes the Sign of 
the Cross over him and gives him a small cross). 



26 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Louis — (Kissing the cross and rising). Faith 
groweth in me; and hope and love! God giveth 
strength! (Agonized). Yet must I pay the price, 
Elizabeth! (He struggles with himself). 

(Soft music, with harps, the motive accentuated). 

(While they speak, Elizabeth descends the path 
from the Castle, attended by Kurt, a young page. 
She carries something in her robe. She is confused 
at seeing them and would pass. But Louis turns 
and sees her.) 

Louis — (Whispers to Conrad). I cannot tell 
her yet. Not yet! (He hides the Cross in his 
hunting pocket). (They watch her coming). 

Conrad — Courage, son! I will leave thee for a 
little; to say mine office in these shady dells. 
(Exit). 

Louis — (Calls to Elizabeth). Come hither, loved 
one! 

Elizabeth — (Reluctant and confused, she 
would pass and tries to conceal her burden). For- 
give me, Louis; I cannot stop today! The poor 
await me. 

Louis — (Annoyed). Have I not told thee that 
I like not to see thee tread so often unattended, 
these rough mountain paths? Thou art still deli- 
cate and tender; and there are rough characters 
abroad at times. Where are thy maids? Let them 
be thy messengers. 

Elizabeth — (Approaches him and pleads ten- 
derly and coaxingly). Be not angry, husband! The 
poor love not to be thus served. Their lot is hard 
and they yearn for pity, more even than for food. 
The crust we cast to them they devour like dogs; 
but blessed, and given by a pitying hand, it gaineth 
Sacramental grace, and lifteth them to humanity. 
Who would rob oneself of such honorable service? 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 27 

Louis — (Still annoyed). Thou art always right, 
Elizabeth. Yet this is too much! What is here? 
carried like a peasant, in thy robe? (She is con- 
fused and lifts her eyes to heaven). 

Elizabeth — Nay, Louis, love, the poor — 'tis 
bread and wine. 

Louis — (Seizing her robe roughly, there falls 
from it a shower of red and white roses). What is 
this? 'Tis not the time for roses. Where culled ye 
them? 

Elizabeth — (Confused). Oh Louis! Ask me 
not! 

Louis — Why, what strange thing is this! no 
bread or wine, and roses! — whence are they? (Eliz- 
abeth prays). 

Kurt — (Running up). Roses! Roses from 
Heaven ! My Lord ; she carried bread and wine ! I 
saw her take it from the Castle and begged to share 
her burden. She prayed ; and God has changed it 
to roses! Oh Master, I think my Lady is an angel; 
don't you? I shall be like her when I grow up! 
Perhaps I may work miracles too; if only I have 
faith enough! 

Hunters — A miracle! (They crowd around 
blessing themselves. Louis kisses the hem of Eliz- 
abeth's robe.) 

Louis — Beloved ! I am not worthy of thee. 

Elizabeth — (Confused). Kneel not to me, but 
to Heaven! (Joyously). It hath justified my ser- 
vice to the poor! Oh, Louis, praise not me; to 
God the glory! 'Tis no virtue of mine that work- 
eth grace. 'Tis God's power, that in a heart wholly 
given to him, soundeth sweet music, as a wind- 
harp attuned to the fluttering breeze answers its 
fluttering caress. 

Kurt — (Gathering the roses with delight). 
Madame! May I gather these roses from Heaven, 



28 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

and place them at the feet of Our Lady in the 
Chapel? Roses from Heaven! (At a gesture from 
Elizabeth he gathers them.) 

Louis — Stay, Kurt. Give me one of Heaven's 
roses to guard upon my heart as the emblem of 
one as innocent and fair. May it keep my soul pure 
when I am far away! (Sadly. Kurt gives him 
the rose and runs to the castle, stopping ever and 
anon to look at and kiss the roses). 

Elizabeth — (Startled). What meanest thou? 
Art thou going on a journey? 

Louis — (Confused). Leave the poor but once 
for thy poor husband, and let us talk together. Sit 
here. (Two blasts are heard on the horn in the 
distance; all listen; the signal sounds again; the 
hunters start up, assume their hunting gear and run 
out). 

Louis — The hunters have run down their quar- 
ry. (Interested). What luck today I wonder? 

(Louis and Elizabeth alone. She leans her head 
on his breast and he puts his arm around her). 

Elizabeth — (Conscience stricken). Is it true, 
Louis; do I neglect thee, dear heart? That 
must not be. The husband must come first! (Coax- 
ingly). How little are we together in the weary 
routine of Court life! The poor envy us the empty 
sparkle of our jewels, and we in return envy 
them for what they do not prize. They never hear 
aught but the truth, no flattery nor honeyed speeches 
full of insincerity. And when they love (smiles up 
at him), none come between to make mischief. 
Dost know, Louis, I wish thou wert not Land- 
grave at all, but just a poor simple shepherd with 
a flock of sheep and tender little lambs! 

Louis — ^And what of thee? 

Elizabeth — (Gaily). Just thy little wife! Sing- 
ing beside thee all day on the fragrant hillside! and 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 29 

at night I'd keep the fireside corner bright and 
joyous when the storm raged without. None should 
trouble our peace. Alas, 'tis but a dream! 

Louis — Yet, beloved, there would be still those 
who envied our happy lot, and counted our poverty 
riches. 'Tis but a dream, and we must wake! 
(Sadly). 

Elizabeth — Yet the happy years have flown, 
even here! Dost know, Louis, the secret of happi- 
ness is love and content! With thee I am always 
happy, and want nothing but Heaven. But wilt 
thou always love me? 

Louis — Surely. (He kisses her hand). 

Elizabeth — ^Yet beauty fades and is gone ! See ! 
(Takes the rose in her hand). 'Tis like this white 
rose! Coming but now from Heaven, its snowy 
petals droop already for the crystal water which is 
its life. (Kisses the rose and gives it back to him). 

Louis — I swear to thee, Elizabeth, that my heart 
is a shrine where thou alone art enthroned. 'Tis a 
mirror that reflects no image but thine own, nor 
ever shall. (Takes a ring from his finger). See, 
Elizabeth! Upon this golden band are graven three 
short words that circle forever my affections. Read 
them. 

Elizabeth — ( Reading) . God ! Thuringia ! 
Elizabeth! How beautiful! (Clasps her arms 
around his neck). 

Louis — Give it me again, and let us once more 
plight that troth that scarce needs such renewal. I 
promise thee to wear this little token always, and 
should I be thought dead, believe no messenger, un- 
less he bear again to thee this golden circlet. When 
it leaves my hand, I shall breathe no more! (Eliza- 
beth puts the ring on his finger. She looks sad 
and agitated at his solemn words). 



30 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Elizabeth — Oh, Louis, speak not of parting. 
Yet should the token come thus again to my hand, 
I should vow my life to Heaven! (Rises with 
ardor). Yea, Louis! The husband and wife are 
not twain, but one flesh ! The void made in my 
heart by thy death shall be filled with God alone! 
(Seats herself wearily and leans on his breast). 
Clouds and an occasional distant peal of thunder. 
The air is growing chill. Speak no more of death ; 
it fills me with strange alarms. Let's talk of lighter 
things. (Takes up his hunting pocket. He 
snatches it from her in alarm). Why Louis, secrets, 
after such vows of fidelity? Hide nothing from 
me! I am curious now. Give it me! (Laughs 
gaily. He allows her to take it but hides his face 
in his hands; she is not looking at him, but opens 
the pouch). Food for the falcon! He has gone 
hungry today! A scourge! (Takes out a disci- 
pline). Ah! Thou hidest thy devotions from me 
least I augment mine own. (Laughs merrily). 

Louis — (Ashamed). 'Tis but to discipline mine 
too unruly nature, prone to evil. Alas! One must 
bear arms against the foes within, as well as with- 
out! 

Elizabeth — (Takes out the Cross). What's 
this? Stay! there is a word graven upon it! (Rises 
in agitation). Jerusalem! The Holy Wars! Oh, 
husband, leave me not! (She falls back fainting). 
(Clouds gather and one or two distant peals of 
thunder are heard. It passes). 

Louis — (Reasoning with her). Beloved! I leave 
thee only for a higher worship. Listen, Elizabeth! 
I have sworn to defend the Holy Shrine; but my 
vow binds me not without thy consent! This life 
is thine, sworn to thy service at the holy altar. 
'Tis thou, little maid, that hast taught me to 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 31 

live for noble things, and thine example hath led 
ever higher. Remember! We have set our feet 
upon a ladder that leadeth to the stars! Shall I 
turn back? (Struggles with himself). Oh, strength- 
en me! Mine own weak nature playeth me traitor! 

Elizabeth — Oh Heaven; the day oi joy is 
brief; 'tis already clouded! (In an agony she 
conquers herself). Go! Louis! I were but a weak 
wonian, an unworthy wife, to hold thee back. God 
wills it! Oh, what is Faith if not a light in our 
dark hours! God dwelleth still beyond the stars! 
Love is not love if it chant not the royal hymn of 
Sacrifice. (Suddenly fainting as if at a new 
thought). But if thou art to fall upon the field. 
(Shrieks and then kneels, sobbing at Louis' knees). 
Oh, God, give me strength; courage! O, 
thou of little faith! (Bravely, standing). 
Louis, fear not! The storm has passed! If thou 
shouldst fall upon the field, 'tis a noble death. And 
if it be, I will live as the angels till we meet again 
in the land where shadows come no more. Faith 
lights the way! Let us be strong! 

(Louis rises and puts his arm about her). 

Louis — My saint! Thy words, like strengthen- 
ing cordial, animate my soul. Come! Let us talk 
of the little ones. We will return together. The 
day wanes, and we can talk as we go. (They go 
up together along the rough paths of the Castle, 
talking, his arm around her. The horns sound again 
joyously. The Huntsmen return with a boar over 
their shoulder, and game, etc. The storm has 
passed and the sunset is golden and bright). 

First Hunter — 'Twas fine sport! Yet we lost 
the better beast ! Pest ! That my hand should have 
chanced such a careless shot. 

Second Hunter — 'Twas my fault, I suppose. I 



32 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

nudged thee too soon. 'Tis strange, the quarry that 
escapes is always the bigger animal! (Laughs bois- 
terously). 'Tis luck! Pest! I am hungry as a 
Hunter. I could eat a haunch of venison! 

First Hunter — In good time then! See! The 
white flag flieth from the Castle. Let us hasten, 
'tis close upon the hour. (They go up to- 
wards the Castle as the Angelus chimes out from 
the tower. They take off their hats and remain 
motionless). 

(Curtain). 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 33 
Act II. Scene 2 

The Valley of Lilies (beyond the city). 

Three months later. 

A large cross stands at the parting of the ways. 
In the distance snowy peaks along the horizon. The 
foreground is at first in sunlight. Later the light 
shifts until the foreground is in twilight, while the 
setting sun shines on the hills beyond. 

Conrad with Louis stands on an eminence review- 
mg the troops. Elizabeth is praying at the foot of 
the cross with her little children. The Crusaders 
pass in relays with banners flying, singing at inter- 
vals the Crusader's hymn. As one detachment pass- 
es, singing, the refrain comes faintly back from 
those who have gone before. The manliness, pur- 
pose and simplicity of the Crusaders is contrasted 
with the effeminate luxury of the Court. A crowd 
of Courtiers, ladies and peasants all mingle togeth- 
er. Pathetic partings from wives, children and 
sweethearts, scarfs and banners waving. 

The orchestra supplies the music, martial and 
strong, interpreting the motives of the Act. 

Crusader's Hymn 

On ! to the Holy Wars ! 

Our hearts are sighing. 

See on the heights afar. 

Our banners flying! 

The Pagan's hordes we'll slay. 

And none shall bar our way! 

God wills it! He wills it! 

(Minor key) 
The Cross shall go before, 
'Tis brightly shining! 



34 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

The Cross be all our store, 
In death repining! 
We'll guard it to the end, 
And Heaven its aid will lend. 
God wills it! He wills it! 

Conrad — (To Hugo, who stands hesitating). 
Come, my son ! Redeem thy careless youth with 
noble service. 'Tis not yet too late! 

Hugo — Almost I am persuaded! This great 
army, so full of purpose, shameth weakness! (Re- 
luctantly). And yet! To break all ties, to fare so 
hardly 

Agnes — Go, Hugo! I bid thee, and will myself 
gird on thy sword! (She takes a sword from a by- 
stander, and gives it to Hugo. He kisses her hand, 
kneeling, and rising waves it valiantly). 

Hugo — For such a cause and such a winsome 
maid, a man might face the world ! 

Maida — Stay, Hugo. Think! Who so would 
choose the cross, must war with nature and 
deny himself. To fast and faint; to sleep on stony 
ground ! 'Tis sorry comfort to a man like thee, 
who sleep'st on roses! (Laughs). 

Agnes — (Coming forward). Hugo, believe her 
not! The soldier of the cross is armed with grace 
to fight the foes within, and laughs at hardships! 

Hugo — (He lets the sword fall with its point 
to the ground and leans upon it). I fain would go, 
yet still a thousand ties do bind me here; a web of 
silken threads, yet forged like steel. (Excusing 
himself to Agnes). Sweet Maid! I go! (irreso- 
lutely). But, stay! There is no haste. I'll join 
them later, what's my way is clear. My health, 
alas, is weak; and business sore doth press. — 

Gypsy — (Coming forward and interrupting him. 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 35 

She takes hold of his cloak and tries to turn his 
gaze away from Agnes and the Crusaders). Nay, 
Hugo, not like this, thou'lt scape the lure of beauty! 
Thou art young. And all youth's current, in swift 
crimson tide doth surge to pleasure! Lead the 
dance with me. (She dances a few graceful steps). 
(Impatiently). The music waits; sweet perfumes 
sway the sense. Come silly fool! The things of 
sense are real! Not so the joys above, that lure 
thee on with visions! (Laughs contemptuously, 
and draws him gradually with her aside to the 
rear. He looks, pitifully back, but by degrees turns 
with her, and drops the sword, which falls clatter- 
ing to the ground). 

Agnes — (Turning scornfully). Shame on thy 
craven soul! Thou servest not God, but Caesar! 
(Hugo is jeered by the crowd and pushed to the 
rear). 

Conrad — Said I not so? He that is governed 
by sense is ever a weakling when he would conquer 
it! 

(To Louis) — Delay not! The shadows gather! 
(As Louis descends and approaches Elizabeth, 
the Crusaders pass again singing.) 

Crusaders — Then come ye Christians here 
When duty calleth ! 
And know no craven fear 
Whate'er befalleth! 
For Christ will be our stay ; 
He leadeth all the way! 
God wills it! He wills it! 
(Refrain comes back faintly 
God wills it! He wills it! 
Louis — (To Elizabeth, who rises and stands 
with her little children clinging to her skirts). 
Dearest, farewell! Be brave! Be strong! And 



36 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

lead my people! God wills it! 

(Elizabeth lays her head on his breast, weeping. 
His children embrace him.) 

Elizabeth — (Clinging to him). I cannot let 
thee go! Let me walk but a little farther on the 
way. 

(They walk a little farther and there is another 
agonized parting. He disengages her arms). 

Louis — Dearest, I cannot stay! And thou hast 
already come a long day's journey. 

Elizabeth — Beloved! How shall I live with- 
out thee! And my little ones! Without a father's 
love! 

Louis — 'Tis not forever! And if it were, death 
cannot quench a love so true, so steadfast. (Points 
to the heights beyond, as if inspired). See, beloved. 
How the sun doth light the hills beyond with glory! 
Oh ! let me go ! 'Tis God we serve. Remember. 
(Tears himself from her and mounts his horse 
which Walter of Varila has been holding. The 
Crusaders sing the last verse, in minor key). 

Crusaders — Oh! look above and see 
The city holy! 
Jerusalem, for thee 
We combat solely! 
From heavenly ramparts there, 
Shall float our banners fair! 
God wills it ! He wills it ! 

(The sunset becomes brilliant. Conrad descends 
and joins Louis, mounting his horse. Elizabeth, 
who has been kneeling, rises and stands by the cross. 
Louis addresses his people). 

Louis — My people, swear to me fidelity to her I 
love! 

People — We swear it! 

Louis — (To Walter). My tried friend, I leave all 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 37 

powers in thy hand. (Whispering). Guard my in- 
terests and hers. I cannot trust my brothers, should 
I be long away. Alas ! The thirst for gold ! 

Walter — (Walter kneels and kisses his hand 
and swears). I will guard them with my life. 

Louis — (To Elizabeth). Farewell, we meet in 
prayer ! 

Elizabeth — (Standing majestically and point- 
ing to the glory beyond). Go! my husband, think 
not of me! God wills it! 

(They ride away as the Crusaders' last verse 
comes faintly back repeated. The people sink on 
their knees weeping and praying). 

Orchestra martial music. 

( Curtain ) . 



38 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
Act III. Scene i 
A Year Later 

The orchestral prelude to this act introduces the 
atmosphere of the court life, 

Great Hall in the Castle. Dais and canopy at 
one end. Open gates leading into Park. Elizabeth 
spinning. Ladies of Honor busily occupied in fold- 
ing and making clothes for the poor and arranging 
food on a long table. Her little children assisting 
and waiting on the poor in imitation of their mother. 

Elizabeth — Ladies! What joy to see ye all 
so busy, and with such tasks! Believe me, friends, 
the lives of worldings leave no trace. Footprints on 
sand, which Time's resistless wave, in one brief 
moment, blotteth out forever! Let us live better! 
While ye yet live, build for yourselves in sufifering 
hearts a shrine. Then memory'U do ye honor. This 
our brief day a golden age we'll make, and lift our 
men, and women too, to nobler service! 

GuTA — Lady ! Thou hast conquered me such as 
I am! Henceforth I'd rather garner souls than 
jewels! 

Agnes — (Enters gaily attired for a fete). Sis- 
ter, sister! Always at tiresome service! Can I not 
lure thee to some little pleasure? Other wives 
mourn not as thee, when husbands play the truant. 
An hour spent in pleasant dalliance would pass with- 
out much harm. Be dull in reason ! 

Elizabeth — Agnes, the primrose path of dal- 
liance skirteth the void of Hell ! Such women haz- 
ard virtue as men do gold at play, little by little, 
and hunger in time for innocence. The true wife 
owneth but one mate and like the dove, doth mourn 
him ever 1 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 39 

(Elizabeth leaves her spinning to embrace Agnes. 
Takes her face in her hands and looks into her 
eyes). But whither now? And whom dost fancy? 
Of lovers many? 

Agnes — (Ashamed, turns her face away sad- 
ly). None perhaps! Oft have I heard within a 
still, small voice that speakth louder now: *'My 
child, give Me thy heart!" I fain would live like 
thee, a holy life. And still I dare not, so outface the 
world! 'Twould waken blushes. To set myself 
upon a pedestal for men to scoff at ! 

Elizabeth — Dare to do right! So place thy- 
self, upon the pedestal of honor, whence Virtue once 
held sway! 'Tis woman's place — Creation's mas- 
terpiece ! And if men scoff, remain. In time they'll 
worship. Is Virtue then so rare that men do scofi 
at it? 

(Agnes hides her face. Some of the ladies have 
quietly withdrawn, tossing their heads, others 
ashamed ) . 

GuTA — Chance arrows these! Yet do they hit 
the mark! 

Walter — (Entering, crosses himself). What's 
this? A queen spinning? Madame, you surprise 
me! 

Elizabeth — (Laughing gaily). Chide not, 
good Walter. Idleness is out of fashion! 'Tis a 
pretty task, so fair and graceful ! ( She spins a 
thread). We but restore lost arts, like mine good 
husband whose minstrels charm us. Nay, I'll tell 
to thee, a precious secret. (Whispers to him). In- 
dustry was guardian angel once of woman's honor! 
(Aloud). The hours are uncut jewels! valueless 
until our labor sets to work and cuts them. Then 
do they shine to Heaven! 

(Clamor at the gate): Oh give us bread! 



40 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Bread! We hunger sore! 

(The poor troop in. They are pale and ex- 
hausted. Hugo is among them dressed in rags. His 
pockets hang out, empty, and he has been drink- 
ing. The ladies go about giving out clothing and 
food. The little children run to Elizabeth and 
cling fondly to her skirts. She takes them in her 
arms) . 

Elizabeth — Poor little lambs! Your eyes are 
full of tears. 'Tis a bitter thing, the tears of child- 
hood! Isentrude, give them warm milk and clothe 
them prettily, and send them joyous home! 

(Isentrude feeds them. They seat themselves 
on the ground, gnawing hungrily at the bread). 

First Beggar — (At the board). The broth's 
not salted! 

Elizabeth — I'll salt it then, and thee, with wis- 
dom! (Laughs and salts broth). 

Second Beggar — (Rising). I hate thee! And 
thine! And all the rich! that dwell mid plenty, 
while we starve on their dole. 

GuTA — Rather, thou would'st have starved with- 
out it! (All cry "Shame! Out with him!") 

Elizabeth — 'Tis nothing new! to reap ingrati- 
tude where one hath kindness shown. How oft 
we grumble when God favors us! Yet God doth 
pardon. Let him be! And I'll turn hate to love! 

Elizabeth — (She puts a warm cloak about 
him). See! A queen doth wait upon thee! Art 
content? (Smiles upon him). 

Beggar — (Wrapping it about him, kneels and 
kisses her hand ashamed) : Pardon, lady! 'Twas 
not hate that spoke, but misery! 

GuTA — The secret's found ! 'Tis love that con- 
quers hate. 

Agnes — (To Hugo). Hast come to this? Oh! 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 41 

let my pity move thee to do better. Eat, and be 
strengthened! Be once more a man, and master 
of thyself! 

Hugo — (Shivers and bursts into tears). So 
Conrad spoke ! Oh ! to have heeded him ! But 
now, — too late! Too late! 

Agnes — 'Tis not too late indeed, try but again! 
I'll help thee! 

Hugo — (Rises, but sinks down once more, puts 
his head on his arms and sleeps noisily). 

Agnes — (Weeping, shakes her head and turns 
away). It is indeed too late! Oh! sorry fate, of 
one I might have loved ! 

Beggar Woman — (To Elizabeth). Oh! Ma- 
dame! I am weary of life, cursed as I am with 
children. No food, and many mouths to feed ! And 
still another babe! 

Elizabeth — Friend, speak not thus wickedly! 
Children a curse! Oh no. A precious blessing! 
God will provide, e'en though his rod chastise. 
Motherhood! (With an exalted look, as if raised 
to ecstasy, then rapturously). Woman! the dear 
God doth need thee. His creature! to people 
Heaven with angels! And every woman that doth 
generate becomes, with God, creator of a soul ! How 
marvellous a mission! Worth some pain! And 
then the children's prattle, 'tis so sweet; their 
little clinging arms, their soft caresses, do stifle mis- 
ery and hinder tears! 

(Prophecies). The babe that thou dost curse 
will be a man, and keep thee when thou art old! 
Oh! praise God, then, and trust Him! 

Beggar — (Smiling). Thou makest the sun to 
shine, sweet lady! I'll heed thee! 

Walter — Hence now, ye beggars, since ye're sat- 
isfied; until to-morrow! (They curtesy and go 



42 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

out. Night falls and gates are closed). 

(All exit but Walter and Elizabeth). 

Walter — My dearest lady, thou'rt too gen- 
erous! There is murmuring among thy ministers 
and even threats. Thou wilt, I fear, in times like 
these, impoverish us with charity. And 'tis even 
said they'll turn against thee! Have a care, I say! 

Elizabeth — My Louis said: "Let her give 
what she will, if she leave me but Warburg and 
Eisenach!" I'll not forget (laughing). Nay, never 
fear ! Give with both hands, and God will still fling 
back unto thee fuller measure! 

Walter — Two minstrels of renown — whom 
well ye know, Thibault and Henry, — have but late- 
ly come! Shall I not bid them here, to charm our 
ears, with music? 

Elizabeth — (Clapping her hands with delight). 
What! the great Thibault of Champagne here? 
And Henry Van Ofterdingen? Oh! call the la- 
dies! Haste! and Courtiers all! We'll cultivate 
the arts my husband loved, and have a tournament, 
with bards and minstrels. Call me when 'tis time. 
(Exit). 

Walter — (Sadly). Would that I dared to tell 
thee all the news! The storm is gathering, in a 
moment more, 'twill burst upon thy head. (Goes 
out shaking his head). Servants remove tables, 
spread rugs, bring in musical instruments, etc. 
Courtiers and ladies of honor enter and group them- 
selves. Guta and Isentrude together. (All in fes- 
tive dress). 

Guta — (To Isentrude). Have ye heard the 
news? Heaven grant it be a rumor and not true! 
The landgrave's dead! 

Isentrude — Oh! No! It cannot be! Who 
saith it? 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 43 

GuTA — Some wandering pilgrims. Yet it is not 
all! They say as well that Henry, Louis' brother, 
doth haste to claim his throne ! 

IsENTRUDE — Say nothing yet to spoil the feast. 
I can't believe such tales! They can't be true. 

(Enter Walter and Elizabeth. He escorts her 
to her throne. Agnes and Guta sit beside her. 
Minstrels enter and take places opposite each other. 
They kneel to Elizabeth). 

Elizabeth — Make us good music, merry gen- 
tlemen, and poetry! Sweet sister arts! 

Thibault — Madame, Fm not so young as when 
we sang in Landgrave Herman's time! Father of 
your good husband. 'Tis twenty years, it seems! 
Why, minstrels gathered here from every part, and 
sang in unison. A contest 'twas and there the Hang- 
man stood (points), in robe of scarlet, the rope upon 
his arm. (Laughs). To hang the culprit who sang 
not with art, or naughtily. (Laughs). A goodly 
fashion! 'Twere well they did so now! Come, 
Henry, sing thou first. Thou had'st the prize. 

Henry — (Bows to Agnes who is surrounded 
by courtiers). I sing of love, a fashion ever pleas- 
ant! (Sings to harp and violin a chanson. Ap- 
plause). 

Henry's Song 

Quand le rossignol joli 
Chante sur le fleur d'ete; 
Que nait le rose et le lys, 
Et la rosee dee vert pre. 
Pleine de bonne voloute 
Chanterai comme fins amis. 
Mais autant, suis ebahie 
Que j'ai si haut pensee. 



44 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Q'ua peine iert accompli 
Le service dout j 'attends gre 

(Chatelain de Coucy, 1200). 
(Echos du Temps Pass), J. B. Wekerlin, Vol. 3. 

(A chanson by Thibault of Champagne **Ni 
bon temps, ni la gelee;" to the same metre, words and 
music to be found in Vol. i, of the same collection). 

Thibault — And I of love more true, the love 
of Heaven! An ancient ballad full of sweetness. 

(Sings). 

Endorme est la perillee 
Mais notre Dame est eveillee. 
Oncques ne fut la glorieuse 
Ni sommeillant, ni pareceuse. 
Et nuit et joz 'la Virge monde, 
En esveil est por tot li monde 
S'ele dormait une seule hore 
Toz li monz ce desous desore 
Trebucherait pos les meffetz 
Que non fezons on avons fez. 

Translation 

A child sleeps on, though danger's near, 
But Mary watches, have no fear ! 
No sleep, no rest, that Mother takes 
Till, danger gone, the child awakes ! 
Thus, night and day, the Virgin pure 
O'er all the world keeps guard secure 
For should that blessed vigil fail 
Then naught on earth could e'er prevail, 
To stem the woes that would ensue. 
For wrongs weVe done, for wrongs we do ! 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 45 

Elizabeth — Thibault! Thine is the palm, 
though thou art the elder! For Heaven's love is 
greater still than man's. 

(There is a stir about the door and people lis- 
tening, look alarmed as Sophie rushes in, speaking 
hysterically). 

Sophie — Oh! Woe upon us all! The land- 
grave's dead ! My son, my son ! 

Elizabeth — Rising and turning pale). My 
Louis! (She says no more, but wavers while Guta 
and Agnes sustain her). Nay, Mother, 'tis not 
true! I'll not believe it. They bring no token! 

(To the minstrels. Go, bards! Until a happier 
day, since rumors are abroad. 

(They go out shaking their heads. Sophie faints. 
Conrad of Marburg enters dressed as a pilgrim. 
Elizabeth leaves her throne and rushes to his feet 
kneeling). Oh tell me! (in an agony). Is he 
dead? 

Conrad — Alas, 'tis true! He sent thee this to 
prove it ! 

(Gives the ring. Elizabeth takes it with a vacant 
look, puts it on her finger and suddenly, as one 
mad, rushes about and throws herself about the 
wall, clinging to it. Sophie revives, Agnes sustain- 
ing her). 

Agnes — (To Guta). Go to her (looking to- 
wards Elizabeth). Her grief is more than ours. 
Oh! comfort her. Else she'll go mad! (Ladies 
approach Elizabeth and loosen her grasp. She puts 
her arm around Guta and weeps). 

Guta — See! At last she weeps! Oh, saving 
shower! Her reason's safe! 

Conrad — (Approaching). Lady, God wills it! 
See, she's calmer now! (She approaches, silently 
wringing her hands, and looking pitifully to 



46 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Heaven). 

Conrad — Come, let me tell thee of his last hours ! 

Elizabeth — Oh! tell me, e'er I die!* The world 
and all its joys is dead to me! (She sinks to her 
knees as he lays his hand on her head and looks up 
into Conrad's face). 

Conrad — Thou must not die, but live! Poor 
child! Thy husband sank with fever, e'er he did 
reach the goal. But oh, so patient. So content! 
with gaze so steadfast fixed upon the glowing hills! 
He did forget all things but those of Heaven. E'en 
thee whom most he loved! "Oh! see!" he said, "A 
flight of doves, like angels! swift speeding towards 
the East." He turned and smiled. ''They wait," 
he said, "for me, and I must follow!" And so he 
slept and woke not. (The wind rises outside min- 
gled with soft harps cadences, which are heard at 
intervals. 

Elizabeth — (Elizabeth rises, full of ardor). 
Then take my solemn vow, a pact with Heaven! 
I'll love no mortal more! But as the angels, live 
ever unto Christ, and Him alone! (Looking up 
in an ecstasy). 

Conrad — (Blessing her). 'Tiswell! And yet! 
Thou'rt young and fair! Be not too hasty. Thou 
may'st love again. And queens must live for 
those about them. 

Elizabeth — Oh! be not traitor to him! I 
swear, I'll love but God! and that until I die! 
(Conrad blesses her again). 

Conrad — The peace of God shall comfort. 
(Listening; sounds of a mob outside the gates with 
loud knocking). Hark! What's that? 

Henry — Open! Open! I say! 



*Her own words. 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 47 

Walter — Who's here? (In amazement). 'Tis 
as I feared! Henry! (Opens gate). 

Henry — The rightful master of all here! I 
claim my brother's throne ! (Courtiers resist. Wal- 
ter faces him). 

Walter — Would'st force us? 'Tis false! I 
guard my lady and her son! who here doth rule! 

Henry — The child is yet too young! And she's 
too pious. The people murmur. She ruineth the 
land with lavish favors. They'll side with me, as 
doth my mother here. (Sophie stands beside him 
Elizabeth stands transfixed with sorrow, her ladies 
and Agnes supporting her. The people rush in and 
cry) : 

People — Long live the landgrave Henry! 

Walter — (Approaching with courtiers who fight 
and are overcome). I'll give my life to guard 
them! 

Henry — Seize him and take him hence. (They 
bind him struggling and take him out. Storm rises. 
Turns to Elizabeth). 

Now Madame, get thee gone! At once! To- 
night! 

Elizabeth — (In amazement). Oh speak not 
thus to me, a queen in sorrow! Thou art a 
man! And I a poor weak woman! Work then 
thy will; but let me have my children! 'Tis all 
I ask of all the wealth I own. 

Henry — I'll guard them here in safety! Get 
thee gone! 

Elizabeth — Oh, God! (Pleads with him). 
But let me stay tonight! The storm is raging! Let 
me but rest, until its course is spent. 

Henry — (Conferring with his friends). Day- 
light brings changes and a force doth gather! 

(To Elizabeth). Go now! At once, and with 



48 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

one single woman. 

Agnes — ^Uncle, have pity! Hark! The storm 
doth rage! There's death upon its wings! 

Henry — (To Agnes). Silence! 

Agnes — Oh, sister then, I'll join thee! (She 
clings to Elizabeth and stands before her as if to 
protect her). 

Henry — (To Agnes). Thou shalt not. (Pushes 
her aside). 

(Storm of wind and snow outside. Winds howl 
around). 

Elizabeth — (Proudly). I am a princess! And 
my blood is royal! What if thou wrest my lands 
and kill the body! My Soul, thou shalt not crush! 
Oh! cruel brother! And mother! Who abets him! 
(Turning to Sophie and pleading with tears). 
(Proudly). Ye have not conquered! I am still 
a queen ! 

(Her ladies put a cloak around her). 

GuTA — Come Lady! (To Henry). Stay! her 
jewels! 

Henry — They are Sophie's! (Pushes back So- 
phie who relents). Nay woman — get thee gone 
without delay. 

Elizabeth — Come Guta. (Standing in the 
doorway with hands crossed on her bosom). Oh 
guardians blest, God's angels, pity us! And guide 
our steps to shelter! 

(Harps sound again in the intervals of the stormy 
wind). 

(To Henry and Sophie). Heaven is pitiful, if ye 
are stone! To Heaven do I commend me! (A 
light shines around her head. They are pushed out 
into the snowstorm and doors are closed, Henr)' 
standing with his back against the door). 

Henry — Now are we rid of her. 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 49 

Conrad — Alas! what piteous grief! The sculp- 
tor's hand doth free with ruthless blows the pri- 
soned angel. Kind Heaven, with hurts like these, 
doth shape a saint! 

Curtain. 



50 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Acts III. Scene 2 

No Musical Prelude 

Scene same as in Act 2, Scene i. (Lights in 
the Castle). Elizabeth descending path with Guta 
in a storm of wind and snow. A light shines about 
her head, and between the sighing wind is heard 
soft harp and violin music and angel voices. 

Elizabeth — Oh! Guta! Friend, was ever sor- 
row like to mine? Heaven guide our steps to shel- 
ter! Hark! I hear a sound like harps of angels! 
Dost thou not? 

Guta — (Listens and shakes her head). My 
lady! 'tis I fear, the sobbing wind alone! Naught 
else! Alas, 'tis bitter cold! Oh! madame, I am 
wroth at those who treat ye so. 

Elizabeth — (Nobly). Yet still we must for- 
give! as we would be forgiven! 

(They approach a convent and knock several 
times). 

Guta — They are at prayers, no doubt! (A 
Brother opens the door). 

Brother — Who's there? 

Elizabeth — She who was once thy Queen. 

Brother — Alas! madam! 'Tis Henry rules, and 
he hath given strict orders that none shall shelter 
thee! So we must needs obey. Good-night! (The 
De Profundis is intoned in the convent: 

"De Profundis clamavi ad te Domine 
Domine exaude vocem meum. 
Si Iniquitates observaveris Domine 
Domine, quis sustinebit?") 

Elizabeth — Oh, let us in, good soul! In tru- 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 51 

est pity! The Hospital I built? Is there no room? 
No pallet rude of straw, where we may rest us ? 

Brother — 'Tis full to-night of sick and suffer- 
ing. Try further on! And now, good-night once 
more. 

(Singing within. He closes door). 

Sustinuit anima mea In verbo ejus; 
Speravit anima in Domino 
A custodia matutlna usque ad noctem — 
Speret Israel in Domino. 

Elizabeth — Oh! blessed words — they sink Into 
my soul! Lord! I'll not fail thee, though faith sore 
be tried ! 

(They knock at a poor hut. A light appears 
within. A testy peasant woman puts her head out 
of the window). 

Peasant — Ye woke me from my sleep! Go on 
your way ! I have no room ! Begone into the night ! 
(Slams down the window and light goes out). 

Elizabeth — Once I did feed her! Now she 
knows me not! (To Guta). There's one sweet 
refuge left that's ne'er denied. 

Guta — ^The Church! why yes! At least 'twill 
ope at dawn. 

(They seat themselves on the steps of the church 
as a lady and courtiers pass returning from a ball). 

Courtier — (Recognizing Elizabeth. To the 
lady). 'Tis the sorry end of prayers and visions. 
Castles in the air, built upon gossamer, that like 
a bubble vanish! (Laughs). 

Lady — Serves her right! To dare to preach to 
us! We who love pleasure show the better sense. 
The rest is moonshine! (Laughs merrily). 



52 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Elizabeth — (To Guta). These were once my 
friends ! 

Guta — Then the saying's true, — Put not your 
trust in Princes. (Bitterly). Nor in friends! 

Elizabeth — Oh, Guta dear! When troubles 
were but small, I thought them great and mur- 
mured! Now my grief's a sea, that drowneth 
words. How many a little maid with years like 
mine doth call herself a child! I'm only twenty! 
Springtime of life! Yet see! In one brief hour, 
the seasons four have passed. (Weeps silently). 

Guta — (Aside). Alas! how true! 

Elizabeth — 'Twas at this very altar! in sun- 
shine and in song, I plighted troth! And here I 
weep alone. Despoiled of all at once, husband, 
and lands, and children ! O! but 'tis bitter! (Mus- 
ing). Perchance when all is gone, there cometh 
peace ! 

Guta — Did'st never hear, my lady, of that good 
merchant who went, seeking pearls? And when he 
found a gem more radiant far than all the rest, he 
sold his all to buy it? 

Elizabeth — Oh ! Guta, 'tis my story ! The love 
of God's a Pearl of rainbow beauty! Born of 
precious tears! 'Twas He who gave, and now His 
gracious hand hath taken back to give a better gift. 
One worth them all ! Our earthly loves are fetters, 
that in a fowler's net the soul do prison. 'Tis God 
doth set us free. Let us then thank Him. Oh, 
soar to Heaven, my soul, thine All is there I 

Guta — (Shivers). 'Tis bitter cold! And dawn 
is yet far! Dost think the Church will open? 

Elizabeth — (Sheltering her). Poor Sister! 
Let me warm thee ! with love at least. 

Guta — Lady! Thy very touch doth set my 
veins on fire! 'Tis charity. 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 53 

Elizabeth — My little ones at least are safe and 
warm! 'Tis some small comfort. Guta! long ago 
I prayed, a joyous maid, at that poor shrine (points 
to shrine) to share Christ's sorrows. Now I know 
them all and find, in Him, a Friend! Hark, 'tis 
the sound again of Angel voices! (Soft music and 
voices). (Angels sing: "Oh! Happy soul! To 
mourn with Christ! for He shall comfort Thee!") 

Guta — See! At last the flush of dawn! Oh 
what a piteous day! (Weeps. Lights go out in 
the castle, and the dawn comes slowly. Matins are 
sung in the monastery). 

(The Church within is lighted dimly. Eliza- 
beth rises and knocks. They listen. The Sacris- 
tan opens the door a little). 

Sacristan — ^What's this? My lady! Here! 

Elizabeth — Oh, man! let me go in and lay my 
burden down at Jesus' feet. His heart alone doth 
wake and pity, though the world be stone! Oh, 
Vestal Light, thou keepest watch within! where 
dwells the Love that sleeps not! (Ardently to Sa- 
cristan). Let me in! 

Sacristan — Surely, surely, poor soul! (Opens 
the door fully). (Weeps). My old heart pities 
thee. I'll get thee food. Rest here by day, and 
when night comes once more, I'll shelter find. I'll 
lodge me somewhere else, and give thee mine. 'Tis 
but a sorry hut, a bed of straw! Yet One above 
such shelter owned. (Lifts his cap). *Twas all 
the vile earth gave Him. 

Elizabeth — There shall I then find ample com- 
fort! (Gives money). Thanks, poor man! God 
will requite thee if my purse be small. 

(Enters church which is suddenly lighted up 
brightly. The Sacristan stands in wonder. Soft 
harp music). 



54 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Sacristan — (Falls on his knees). 'Twas an 
Angel passed! (Looking in while angels chant: 
in a burst of celestial music that seems to come from 
above). 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 55 
Act IV. Scene i 
Three Years Later 

(Orchestral prelude is a contrast to the pathos of 
the last scence. Begins gaily with old classical 
airs, grows tender and sweet as curtain rises). 

A street in Marburg with open square at back. 
Elizabeth's poor house at left. Enter a Beggar, 
with Hugo, dressed also in beggar's garb. 

Beggar — 'Tis almost the hour, when she doth 
pass. The Lady Elizabeth! Would'st though see 
her? It will do thee good. (Slaps him on the 
back). For she doth scatter blessings along the 
way, as rich men gold. A queen she was, just think! 
And yet so humble ! Far more than we, who spring 
from nothing. She giveth to the poor her very rai- 
ment, and doth fast herself when food is scarce for 
both. There's magic in her touch, and they do tell 
of cures worked by her presence! Little wonder! 
for her smile is joy, and cheers like sunshine. 

Hugo — I'd fain see her! Not to beg food, 
nor coin. The hurt's within me! Can she, think 
you, cure hurts like those of sin? 

Beggar — I doubt not! Ask her prayers, for true 
repentance. (Reverently). Were there Saints on 
earth, then were they such as she! 

Hugo — I knew her at the Court, a beauteous 
lady; whose virtue men did laugh to scorn! 

Beggar — ^You! at the Court. (Laughs). Oh, 
Man! You make me merry. Tell not such a 
tale! It lacks too much of wisdom. Wast thou 
cook perhaps, or scullion? (Laughs). At court, 
Ha, ha, ha! 

Hugo — (Angrily). Silence, knave! A better 
man than thee! though I'm an outcast now I (Sighs 



56 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

despairingly). 

Beggar — Well, man, let It go! Only you don't 
look like It! (Laughs seriously). But she, my 
lady here, hath little comfort. Good master Con- 
rad, whose penitent she is, doth long direct her. 
And since she hath no sins, or very few, to conquer, 
he tries her with denials, with penances, and dearth 
of comfort. All to make a saint! 

Hugo — Her ladles, Guta and Isentrude, are with 
her still ? 

Beggar — Indeed, not so! Conrad did send them 
back. Because she loved them, and did comfort 
find In them at least. ''Her heart," he said, "should 
cling to nothing earthly! On the cross alone its 
tendrils twine, and bloom in Heaven!" And then! 
She joyed in giving. Even this, the last delight! 
he did forbid. "She must give up her will! The 
more of Self," he said, In what we do, "the less of 
Heaven." 

Hugo — And It is true! Oh, had I learned the 
lesson, that Conrad taught in years long past! To 
curb my will! I were not now like this! 

Beggar — And poverty! She sold her robes to 
clothe us and for herself keeps nothing, sleeps on 
straw, and recks not comfort. So poor she is that 
Brother Francis of Asslsl there, hath sent to her his 
mantle. Though but a sorry cloak, all patched and 
worn, it warmed a heart that knows a Seraph's fire! 
A precious gift! Thus did he esteem this little 
lady! Hush, here she comes In prayer. 

(Elizabeth approaches in simple dress, praying; a 
light around her head; and a joyous uplifted 
look). 

Beggar — (To Hugo). Speak to her! 

Hugo — 'Twere a sin, to mar such peace with 
words. And words like mine! 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 57 

Beggar — Hasten, or she'll be gone. Don't lose 
the chance! 

Hugo — Lady, your prayers. (Sobs pitifully). 
To raise a soul to life! 

Elizabeth — (Recognizing him). Hugo! For 
years I've prayed for thy conversion. Has it come 
at last? Thou wert my husband's friend! 

Hugo — Oh, lady! teach me to serve God once 
more! I've long denied Him! I've served my years 
to Satan, and reaped alas! but tares. The husks 
of swine have fed me. Oh ! to be pure of heart, and 
clean once more! To hold myself erect as doth a 
man, and know myself for what I was, or still may 
hope to be! 

Elizabeth — Hugo! The angels joy, when sin- 
ners weep; more than for many just. Go, seek the 
Priest! and at his kindly feet weep out thy shame, 
thy sin. Open thy soul's dark gates, to a pure flood of 
contrite tears ! They'll wash away thy stains. The 
land shall smile again and bring forth flowers! 
(Joyously. He sobs, she persuades tenderly). And 
yet! 'Tis not enough to weep for sin, because it 
brought ye shame. God is your Father and a ten- 
der one. And ye have paid His love, alas! with 
hate. Prove your regret! Do worthy deeds, and 
be a man once more! Have ye the courage? 

Hugo — Lady, want and pain are cruel masters, 
yet they teach us well! I'm stronger now! 

Elizabeth — Then Hugo, list! Thy body once 
was God's fair temple, and there dwelt within His 
Holy Spirit. And thy hand has raised shrines to 
base idols, in the Holy place. Oh cast them out 
and set thou up within a Holy altar! with a living 
flame of love that dieth not! 

Hugo — Thy words are like a song! And 
through my veins run fire! I'll hasten to the Priest! 



58 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Lady, oh! never fear! (Runs out). 

Elizabeth — Thank God! (She raises her 
hands to Heaven and resumes her prayer, entering 
the house. The beggar sits down with his hat be- 
fore him to beg and watch). 

(Enter Walter of Varila, Master Conrad, 
Bishop and cleric attendants). 

Walter — 'Tis here she lives! At least they told 
us so! Oh! what a wretched hole for queens to 
stomach! Yet she is a Saint! And we, thank 
Heaven, are not! 

Bishop of Bamburg — (Rebuking him). Pov- 
erty's not shame. And happiness dwells not in 
kingdoms only! 

Conrad — (Knocking). Lady! Come forth! 
Here's friends would speak with thee! 

Elizabeth — (Coming out on her balcony). 
Yes! Master Conrad! Walter? Art thou here? 
And mine good uncle too! Your blessing then! 
(Kneels a moment for it as he gives it). It 
doth me good to see some well known face dawn 
on my vision. Oh! give me good news! Of my 
dear children! (Her face lights up). Have they 
grown? Is Herman strong? And what of Ger- 
trude? Sweet! Oft I feel in dreams those cling- 
ing arms and tender childish kisses! My maids? 
Are they quite well? Oh! tell me all. (Impatient- 
ly). At once! (Tries to calm herself). 

Walter — All are well! And send thee greet- 
ing. But not this, is yet our message. Sophie doth re- 
pent she used thee hardly, and at her request the 
Landgrave Henry will disgorge thy lands. They're 
thine to own again. Lands, gold and jewels! 
Stretch but out thy hand and reign a queen once 
more! 

Elizabeth — (Agitated, looks to Heaven). No, 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 59 

no! Good Walter! Speak no more of gold, nor 
yet of kingdoms. Heaven's all my store! And 'tis 
enough. (To Bishop). Oh! uncle, bid me not 
again to reign. (Agitated). To wake the ashes 
of this broken heart, to fresher flame. 'Twill flicker 
and go out with one unkindly word ! ( Shakes her 
head). I've laid my riches up, where moth doth 
not corrupt, nor robber steal! 

Conrad — Take care, my lady! Keep thy dower 
rights to give to Herman. 

Elizabeth — To Herman do I give them. He 
shall reign ! And Walter'll be his tutor ! 

Bishop — (Calmly). Niece, I understand the 
theme is painful. But I've other news. Frederick 
of Germany doth seek thy hand. Thou'rt young 
and lovely still. Oh ! give it then. And reign an em- 
press. All that heart can wish shall bloom around 
thee, — children, love and gold! Ambition's heights 
thou'lt scale! Command and conquer! 

Elizabeth — Uncle, I hear thee! Yet I heed 
thee not! Such words as these to me; who once 
loved Louis? (Exaltedly). Marriage is a bond so 
true, so holy, that if broken once, the hurt endures 
alway! (Calmly). Ye come too late! My love is 
Heaven's. (Nobly). Who dwells in heart on God 
doth blind become to things of lesser beauty ! Good 
Uncle, tell him No! (Emphatically). 

Bishop — (Angrily). Niece! You dwell on vi- 
sions. I speak sober sense! To waste a lengthy 
life, on sturdy beggars, and with lep-rous brats! 
You! who wert born to rule! And what if I com- 
mand? 

Elizabeth — (Proudly). Dare to command, 
and thou shalt rue the day! I've made my vow to 
Heaven. And naught shall turn me thence. To 
Christ I'll live, and Christ I'll love, forever! And 



6o THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

if by force ye tried, to turn my will, I'd mar this 
youthful face with knives, until ye fled in terror! 

Conrad — (Protesting with a smile). Heaven 
forbid! Tell them, at least, you're happy! 

Elizabeth — To live to God! With conscience 
pure and clean from sin's intention! Yea, 'tis hap- 
piness! Uncle, I'm a queen! and count in hearts 
my subjects. 'Twas not always so! The people love, 
and bless me, as I pass, because I've helped them! 
(Laughs). I've no time to waste, on idle courtiers! 
(Joyously). Oh, 'tis a wondrous thing, to ease 
with one cool touch the fevered brow, or, waken 
souls that sleep from sin to virtue! I'm happy! and 
I'm free! I nothing own, and nothing fetters me! 
If night be cold or food be scarce, I pray, and heed 
it not ! And if my bed be hard, the weary sleep and 
note not comforts. Once I served the body. Now, 
my Soul's alive! The body's nothing! Made of 
vilest dust, and soon to feed the worms. The Soul ! 
A beauteous thing! It buds in life, but Heaven's 
its blossoming! (Looks up radiantly). 

Bishop — (To Walter discontentedly). All very 
fine! But we can't follow her in flights like these! 
A little mad! perhaps! (taps his forehead signifi- 
cantly) with pious fancies! 

Conrad — ^Would that all were mad, with fancies 
like to these! 

Walter — ^Well, let it go! Farewell good mis- 
tress. (Exit with Bishop). 

Elizabeth — Fare ye well, good friends. (Kisses 
her hand. Sighs, turning to Conrad). Oh, Master 
Conrad, I have angered them! They cannot grasp 
my thoughts. I climb to heights where angels dwell, 
perhaps, (sadly sighs) but men can't follow! 
(Weeps a moment). 

Conrad — Poor simple folk! Like fowls, they 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 6i 

build their nests of muddy earth. Thine is the 
eagle's flight, on princely wings, to cleave the ether 
blue! Thy soul's a ship that breasts a chartless 
main. But One doth guide, to a celestial haven. 
(Lifts his biretta). How poorly is God served by 
many men ! They give Him crumbs from Mam- 
mon's table! Drink to the dregs of Pleasure's cup, 
and fling the lees to Him! Thou would'st give 
thy King more royal service. In youth's brimming 
cup would mingle sparkling wine for his libation! 
Tell me? Is it so? 

Elizabeth — Yea Father! (calming herself). 
Nature did speak ! But grace has conquered ! I 
would joyous quaff the cup of sacrifice! E'en 
though 'tis bitter. (Joyously). 'Tis our God we 
serve! Good night. And thanks. 

Conrad — Dream then of Heaven. It will come 
at last! And the angels guard thee. (He speaks 
to her with great reverence with his eyes on the 
ground, being alone with her, save for the beggar 
— who is fast asleep). 

(Soft lullabies with a pathetic ending as curtain 
rises, when music grows more faint and ceases). 
Curtain. 

Falls a moment to indicate lapse of time. 



62 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
Act IV. Scene 2 

One month later. 

The same, — towards dawn. Chill grey light be- 
fore the morning breaks. 

A dim light in Elizabeth's house. Beggars 
crowding about, watching. The sound of a tink- 
ling bell outside and the Miserere chanted by the 
two boys with cross and censer and lights who ac- 
company Conrad who is clad in white vestments 
and humeral, carrying the Blessed Sacrament. He 
enters the house. The beggars all kneel as they 
hear the procession approach. The sound of the 
bell is heard three times within, and the murmer 
of voices. Conrad and boys come out and cross the 
stage to exit. Silence until they have gone out. 

Chant 

Miserere mei, Deus, secundum 
Magnam misericordium tuum. 

First Beggar — Twelve days it is we've watched 
her come and go, tottering from weakness. Now, 
she dies, they say! And we can only weep. 

Beggar Woman — She's well prepared for the 
last journey. The holy sacraments will ease the 
way, good deeds have gone before! 

First Beggar — ^What's her illness? 

Beggar Woman — Some say 'tis fever. Others 
that 'tis not. None know! 

Conrad — (Entering in cassock and surplice). 
A broken heart! That garnered closely up in 
one small crimson cup Life's wealth of love! 
Until it burst and spilled its fragrant store at Jesus* 
feet. (He opens his breviary and reads, walking up 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 63 

and down, by the curtained window, and occasion- 
ally quoting aloud) : "Though I walk in the valley 
of shadows, no evil shall I fear, for Thou art with 
me!" 

Beggars — (Whispering behind Conrad's back). 
He loved her! 

Conrad — (Turning calmly). Nay, 'twas never 
so! Ye carnal minds, too vile to grasp the thing 
called holiness! I did guard her soul as a white lily 
in Heaven's garden fair, a breath might tarnish! 
A Master, I to guide her steps in virtue, — harsh- 
ly did I rule, as duty bade. The sculptor's hand 
strikes hard! Yet secret wept, in pity for the child, 
so hardly used by fate. (Wipes his eyes). 

Beggar — Hush, 'tis Guta! See! 

GuTA — (Coming to door, weeping, but with an 
exalted look). Oh! what wondrous words! She 
sees the dawn of day on everlasting hills! And all 
the angel hosts do gather there! Her Louis too, 
so young and lovely! 

Above and Unseen — (Soft music of violins 
and harps with the minor motive of the Crusader's 
Hymn. Guta hastily retires as if to sounds 
within). 

Conrad — (Reading). I recommend thee, dear 
Sister, to thy Maker, who formed thee from the 
dust. May the radiant company of angels meet thy 
soul, may the Apostles receive thee, the glorious 
martyrs await thee, the blessed virgins conduct thee. 
May the living God place thee in His garden of 
Paradise. 

(Attendants bring in a pallet with a young lad 
paralyzed from birth). 

Beggar — (Explaining to Conrad). 'Tis the 
poor lad she cherished, who dies without her care. 



64 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

He ne'er heard of God until she taught him. 

Conrad — (Motioning to bearers). There let 
him lie, perhaps her prayers will help him. (They 
place the cot, the boy lies as one dead). 

GuTA — (Returning). Hark! she speaks again 
in wondrous music! She loveth but God alone, 
and loving Him finds all she loved in life! "The 
precious Pearl!" she cries, '*is mine, forever !"( Goes 
in again). (Soft music continues). 

Conrad — (Prays). As pants the heart for cool- 
ing streams, so doth my heart pant for thee. Foun- 
tain of living waters! Depart, Christian soul! 
And may'st thou behold thy Redeemer face to face 
in the Vision of eternal truth which is the joy 
of the Blessed! 

(Angel voices are heard softly chanting to harps, 
followed by an exquisite bird song) . The pale blue 
of light early dawn grows more intense and brightly 
luminous. 

All — What's that? 

Beggar Woman — Her body sings while her 
soul's passing! 

(A fragrance of roses floats on the air). 

Conrad — Oh, what odors sweet float to the 
sense ! 

(They kneel reverently. The song again. Un- 
noticed the paralytic slowly rises, lifting his arms 
wonderingly. He does not know the feeling of 
life. He rises from the waist up). 

Paralytic — Is this what men call life? 

(They rise amazed and look at him, clinging to- 
gether and speechless). 

Paralytic — What's this? (Flinging of? the 
covering, he rises and crouches against the wall). 
I'm cured, I think! 

All — A miracle! The saint has cured him! 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 65 

(The light still pale blue increases with a glow 
about the hut). 

Conrad — (Coming forward and repressing 
them). Nay! wait till Holy church confirms the 
sentence. It will come in time. Note down his 
words. And bear ye witness all. 

(While they look at the paralytic and Conrad, 
the hut becomes luminous — the curtain slowly rises 
showing Elizabeth dead on her straw pallet, in the 
dress of a Franciscan tertiary, with bare feet. 
There is a heavenly smile on her face, which is half 
turned to the audience. Above the hut are visible 
the snowy wings of an angelic host. 

There is a burst of soft music that gradually dies 
away. The people turn hastily and kneel in won- 
der — the paralytic stands erect joyously with hands 
raised to Heaven. The orchestra with organ plays 
the Magnificat). 

The dawn comes in a burst of rosy light. As 
the faith of the people is more evident in their 
action the vision fades away, showing Elizabeth 
dead amid her natural surrounding. The Mag- 
nificat can be sung outside, as a fine effect would 
be produced if the whole orchestral accompaniment 
could appear to be celestial. 



66 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

Act. IV. Scene 3 

Six Years Later — Musical Tableau 

Before the curtain rises a choir of nuns is heard 
singing as if in procession the ''Office of Elizabeth." 
They are seen walking away as curtain rises: 

Ave gemma speciosa 
Mulicrum sidus rosa 
Ex regale stirpe nata 
Nunc in coelis coronata. 
Salve! rosa pietatis 
Salve! Flor Hungariae. 
Salve! fulgens Margarita 
In coelesti sede sita. 
Rosa re gem Majestatis 
Ut nos salvet hodie. 
Lumen mittens caritatis 
Ac coelesis gratiae! 

(Translation) 

Hail sparkling gem so rare, 

Hail ruddy planet fair! 

Mid'st starry womankind so brightly shining, 

Born of a regal race 

Now crowned in heavenly place: — 

Hail, rose of grace in beauty twining! 

Hail, Hungary's flower! 

Hail, lustrous pearl, her dower ! 

Set close in Heaven's bright throne above! 

Pray then our Heavenly King 

To-day! to thee we sing. 

And send us down His grace and heavenly love. 



THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 67 

Marburg as before. Elizabeth has been canonized 
at Perugia, but the Apostolic Delegate is announc- 
ing the decree to the people. The procession with 
cross and lights, etc., is passing under an arch deco- 
rated with flowers. Walter of Verila, guards the 
young King Herman w^ho sits on a throne (left) 
with Sophie seated near him. There is a rich carpet- 
on the ground and a catafalque royally draped at 
centre. Back of stage is a crimson velvet curtain 
which is drawn at close of scene by two pages dressed 
in blue and white. 

The Apostolic Delegate stands on the right under 
a canopy with the decree which he has been reading 
in his hand. The Bishop of Bamburg and other 
distinguished clerics are beside him in rich robes of 
office. There is much movement as the curtain rises, 
the procession going and coming, prelates kneeling 
to kiss the ring of the Delegate in allegiance to the 
Church, before taking their seats. Agnes, Guta and 
Isentrude dressed in white approach the Bishop of 
Bamburg. Agnes kneels and he places a white veil 
on her head, the others receiving the veil in turn. 
A beggar woman stands in front holding the hand of 
a young boy and points out the picture to him. 
Hugo in Crusader's dress stands bravely on guard at 
the bier. Henry, in sackcloth and with bare feet 
stands with bowed head on the other side. The 
Emperor Frederick, in rich robes, is kneeling on 
one knee and laying his crow^n upon the bier. A 
cleric frees a number of white doves from a cage, 
and as the incense rises from censers swung by the 
Acolytes all are looking up as if bidden to "lift up 
their hearts" to Heaven. The delegate intones 
"Sancta Elizabeth, ora pro nobis" ! and the clergy 
and populace cry "alleluia!" The bells chime mer- 
rily, and trumpets sound. There is a slight hush 



68 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 

as the delegate intones the Te Deum Laudamus." 

Then the cries burst out again, the orchestra or- 
gan and grand choir joining in the hymn, the bells 
and trumpets mingling harmoniously. As the verse 
is sung the two pages draw aside the curtain, re- 
vealing the living picture of the "Miracle of the 
Roses." 

Te Deum laudamus; te Dominum Confitemur 
Te aeternum Patrem vumis terra veneratur. 
Tibi omnes Angeli ! tibi coeli et universae potestates 
Tibi cherubim et seraphim; incessabili voce procla- 

mant 
Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, 
Domine Deus Sabaoth. 



The life of the Christian is hid in God; 
Posterity its wreaths shall twine, 
Of bay and laurel. 

Finis. 



H17 89 1 



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HECKMAN 

BINDERY INC. 

# DEC 88 
N. MANCHESTER, 
INDIANA 46962 



